Taking the Reins
by z1989
Summary: In the aftermath of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry comes to a realization. Voldemort isn't the only one that wants to shape his fate, and Harry decides to make his own decisions. If you like Independant!Harry yarns, this is the one for you!


Disclaimer- I don't own any part of Harry Potter, although you've probably deduced this already. This is just for fun kids! So no lawsuits, if you please.

A/N: This story marks my re-entrance into the world of writing. It's been a while since I've wrote any fiction, so please bear with me while I get my chops back!

Taking the Reins

Chaper 1 – Born to Run

"BOY!"

The boy in question let out a dejected sigh. He was forced to cook and clean, bow and scrape, and in general live the life of a live-in servant (sans pay, of course). He knew that some kids had it worse than he did. He had a place to sleep out of the elements, adequate-if not plentiful- food, and only had to worry about staying out of the way of his relatives. Overall, he decided if he could make it out of this house alive and relatively sane, life would start to look up.

"BOY! GET DOWN HERE!" The voice bellowed again.

Harry Potter lifted himself from his bed in the smallest bedroom in Number Four, Privet Drive, and stumbled out of his room. Ever since returning from Hogwarts this last year, he had felt out of sorts. He was fourteen, small for his age, and staring to show a slight shadow of stubble on his face. Tomorrow was his birthday, and he was eagerly looking forward to turning fifteen. _One more year down, two to go,_ he silently told himself. After the traumatic events of the Tri-wizard tournament and the painful loss of Cedric Diggory, he thought on the train ride home from school that living with the hateful Dursleys would be a welcome reprieve from the sympathetic (and sometimes suspicious) looks from his fellow classmates. _Oh, how wrong I was…_, he thought.

After clumsily making his way down the narrow staircase to the first floor, Harry entered the kitchen and met the ugly, swollen, and blotchy face of his uncle, Vernon Dursley.

"You're late to start breakfast, boy!" The hideous visage that was the man of the house growled out. Harry's cousin, Dudley, was sitting next to his father at the kitchen table and seemed delighted to see Harry getting reamed out.

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon…" Harry replied.

"See that it doesn't happen again!"

Harry nodded and busied himself with preparing the morning's breakfast. Most of the wizarding community would be shocked to know that _THE_ Harry Potter toiled like a house elf during his summers away from Hogwarts, but the truth of the matter was that Harry welcomed the mindless drudgery that was his life away from the wizarding community. Or, at least, he did this summer. Although he was starting to come to terms with the tragic death of Cedric Diggory and the aftermath of Lord Voldemort's resurrection, he was by no means able to completely put it out of his mind. The simple but time-consuming chores and tasks that his relatives forced him to perform helped him clear his mind of the horrifying and soul crushing despair that threatened to overwhelm him at all times. In fact, without the physically demanding chores that his family put him though, he didn't think he would even be getting the pitiful handful of hours of sleep that he was managing every night. He definitely wouldn't be sleeping at all if he had to face the glassy-eyed look of death that Cedric had shown just after Wormtail had killed him whenever he closed his eyes. Physical exhaustion seemed to be good for something after all, and with this semi-cheerful thought, Harry cracked a few eggs into a frying pan, and busied himself with preparing the rest of the meal.

When the bacon had reached the desired level of crispiness, and the eggs and toast were finished, Harry carried it all to the table and set it down in front of his almost salivating uncle and cousin. Harry threw himself into one of the two empty chairs, and decided he wanted to dare losing a finger by stabbing a few rashers of bacon and a single egg onto his own plate. With a little timing, he was able to manage it. After all, one didn't live with the ravenous Dursleys for any length of time without learning to be swift!

"Boy, your aunt is away on a trip with her history club to sightsee in London and won't be back until tomorrow." _More like a unrepentant gossip club_, Harry thought. "Dudley and I will be going to see a…what was it again, son?"

"A music lesson for garage bands and beginning rock stars! I've told you a thousand times, Dad!" Dudley whined.

"Oh, yes, yes, that's right." Vernon reassured with a placating smile.

That _must have been the sounds I've been hearing through the floorboards, _Harry thought_. I just thought someone was strangling a cat!_

"Anyways, boy, we're leaving you here unsupervised until we return. I don't like it, but that Figg lady with all those mangy cats hasn't been home in the last week! I hope I don't have to impress upon you the importance of staying out of trouble, for your own benefit? I don't want to come back to have all the valuables stolen or my house burned down! Are we clear, boy?" The last question came out in what was possibly meant as a menacing snarl, but for Harry, it was decidedly unimpressive. After all, he had faced down old Snakeface and lived to tell the tale! Who was Vernon Dursley compared to him?

"Yes, Uncle." Harry said obediently. He had decided to not rock the boat with this issue. It was a blessing in disguise, he decided. He could lounge around all day without the constant fear of his relatives bothering him.

"We had better be!" Vernon concluded with a raised, shaking fist. "We had just better! And none of your freakishness while we're gone!"

Harry nodded, although in reality he wanted nothing better than to see the look on his uncle's face if he were to come back to see Harry half naked and in the middle of a demon summoning. _Exactly what shade of purple would his face be?_ Harry wondered. _Puce? Or maybe eggplant?_

"We're leaving in a few minutes, and I've left a list of chores for you to do. I expect each and every one done by the time we get back tonight at eight!" With this, Vernon slammed a long list onto the table and shoved it towards Harry. Harry took it, folded it, and pocketed it.

"I'll go get the car started, Dudley. Go grab your guitar and we'll leave."

Dudley stumbled up the stairs rather nimbly in Harry's opinion. _Well, nimble for a beluga whale…_ Harry conceded. After Vernon had left the kitchen with a single backward leer warning Harry of hell to pay for any "freakishness", Harry busied himself with cleaning up. After placing the war-torn remains of the Dursley's meals into the rubbish bin, he placed them in the sink. With this first chore done, Harry fished out the chore list and began to read.

_Bloody hell,_ he thought distractedly. _Half of these I did yesterday! Mow the lawn, weed the garden, clean the garage…looks like I won't be working as hard as I thought!_

With this happy discovery, the day started to look a little brighter. He headed towards the stairs, and was promptly plowed into the wall, head first. The force of the blow rattled the picture frames on the walls.

"Oh, clumsy me!" Dudley sneered. "I didn't see you there, freak!"

Harry shook the stars from in front of his eyes and regarded Dudley in all of his piggy glory. _Speaking of piggy…_Harry thought with an inward grin. He passed by the behemoth and started up the stairs.

"Oink, oink…" Harry mumbled under his breath, just barely audible enough to be heard. Apparently, Dudley was still able to hear it, and his wide frightened eyes regarded Harry with a frantic fear. He backed away from Harry, clutched his backside where Hagrid's spell had gone wrong all those years ago, and fled the hallway like his hair was on fire.

Harry smirked when he saw this, and walked up the stairs with a spring in his step. He walked into his small bedroom and surveyed it. It was neat as a pin, necessary because of his nagging relatives. The sagging bed was against the wall in one corner, an old beaten wardrobe was in another, and his owl Hedwig's perch (currently unoccupied) was against the wall. There were none of the normal posters or pictures on the wall that one would expect of a regular teenager's room. Considering most of the pictures that he owned moved, however, it was probably in his best interest to keep them safely locked away in his school trunk.

Harry slunk over to the window. He peered out over the gradually brightening street of Privet Drive, and was just in time to see the Dursley's car pulling out of the driveway. After making sure that they weren't coming back anytime soon he gathered up his bath kit and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Harry stayed in the shower for a long time. Much longer than would normally be allowed by his spiteful relatives, at least. Although he enjoyed the warm water soaking his skin, now that he was alone with his thoughts they returned once again to Cedric and Voldemort. He knew deep down in his heart that there was nothing he could have done to save Cedric from death. Forces much greater than he could have comprehended were at work against him during the entirety of the tournament. He also knew that if he allowed his self-doubt and guilt to gain a foothold in his heart that it would eat away at his soul and willpower just like hungry termites in a particularly tasty floorboard. Knowing this didn't make him feel any more at peace, though.

Harry lowered his head and let the pounding water wash over his head. _I won't let him die for nothing! _Harry thought with a strange, powerful ferocity. _I can't change the fact that he's dead, but at least it won't be wasted! I know Voldemort's going to keep coming after me until I'm dead. I just have to make sure that I'm ready for him when he does!_

Stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel, Harry wondered about how Dumbledore and his friends were doing. This wasn't the first time he'd wondered about them during the summer, and it assuredly wouldn't be the last. Harry thought about how Dumbledore had mentioned something about the "old crowd" when he was in the infirmary after the third task. Dumbledore was most likely having a very busy summer trying to marshal together his forces to fight Voldemort. As for his friends, he had a general idea what they were up to. Harry had received many letters from Hermione, and almost as many from Ron. All of their letters tried for a tone of casualness, but the undertone screamed anxiety. It seems they were as much in the dark about the state of the wizarding world as he was. Harry hadn't yet decided if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

After walking back into his cramped bedroom and putting on some clothes, Harry went back downstairs and started on his chores. There weren't very many of them, and by the time he was done the sun hadn't even reached the top of the sky. Looking at his watch, Harry saw that it was half past eleven. Wiping off some sweat from his brow with a rag, Harry let out the sort of contented sigh that can only come after finishing work for the day. As he stowed the rag in his back pocket and turned to head back inside, he saw a suspicious looking shimmer in the air to his left, behind the large tree in the yard across the street. _That kind of shimmer can only mean one thing,_ Harry thought. _Someone's watching me under an invisibility charm!_ Not wanting to let the other person know that he had seen them, Harry forced himself not to explode into action and draw his wand. He calmly walked around the side of the house, and as soon as he broke the line of sight between himself and the spy, he ducked around the corner of the house and crouched behind the bushes there. After waiting for a few moments, he heard the very quiet whispering of shifting cloth and the soft, almost inaudible creaking of boots. Peeking very carefully out of the bushes and immediately spotting the almost indiscernible flickering of the invisible person, Harry sprang out, grabbing the person around where he guessed their shoulder was, and firmly placing the tip of his wand against their neck.

"Don't even _think_ about moving. Who are you?" Harry growled.

Harry felt the figure jump, then settle.

"Easy now, Harry. It's me, Remus! Very impressive ambush!" the disillusioned figure stated slowly.

Harry started to lower his wand, feeling foolish, but then kept it in place.

"How do I know it's really you?" Harry asked. He racked his brains for a question only Remus would know. "What haunts the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade?"

The disembodied voice let out a snort, and replied, "Well, I suppose _I_ do! Or did, at least."

Harry smiled, and let his wand drop to his side. "It's nice to see you Remus! Or at least it will, once I'm able to!"

"Oh, right. Strange how having a wand to your throat can make you forget little things like being invisible!" Remus muttered an incantation, and instantly reappeared before Harry's eyes.

Harry lowered his head, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks. "Sorry about that…but I didn't know who you were."

Remus gave a laugh, and thumped Harry on the back.

"Nonsense!" Remus exclaimed. "You did exactly as you should have done. If I were still a professor I would give you some points!"

Harry chuckled at this, and tucked his wand away in voluminous hand-me-down jeans. "Not that I'm not excited to see you and everything," Harry began, "But, why didn't you ring the doorbell like a normal person? What's with the charms?"

Remus studied Harry for a moment, before saying, "Well, lookouts aren't usually supposed to be seen Harry."

Harry gave Remus an unbelieving look, before asking, "I have lookouts? Why would I need lookouts? I can take care of myself just fine!"

Remus rubbed his throat where Harry's wand tip had been poking. "Oh, if I didn't believe that before today, I do now. Trust me. But, these orders come down from the top. Dumbledore wants you protected around the clock now that You-Know-Who's back."

"If Dumbledore really wanted to help me, shouldn't I be getting some kind of training? I think we can safely assume that Voldemort won't stop coming after me until I'm dead. Shouldn't I be at least a bit prepared for him?"

Remus gave Harry the affectionate, vaguely condescending look that most of the adults in his life wore whenever Harry talked about actually doing something proactive about the coming war. _I'm really getting tired of seeing that kind of look…_

"Harry, you're only fourteen. You should be more worried about your last exam or what a pretty witch thinks of you. Try to enjoy life while you can!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because Voldemort wanting to put my head on a pike should be the least of my worries. If Dumbledore's worried enough to put guards around here, that means he thinks I'm not as safe here as I've been told I was. And even if I was, what about the rest of the year? So far, the only attempts on my life have happened at Hogwarts!"

Remus appeared utterly flabbergasted. Harry supposed Remus had never seen him show a little backbone before and second guess the adults in his life. _Well, that changes now!_ Harry thought savagely.

"Uh, well, Dumbledore knows what he's doing Harry, I'm sure. And if you're really interested in learning more to protect yourself, I'm all for it. I'll see what I can do. I might be able to get you some advanced Defense books and starter dueling manuals to study. You might not be able to practice magic directly, but knowing theory never hurts!"

Harry smiled at Remus. "I wouldn't expect the Marauder's resident bookworm to suggest anything else!"

Remus raised an eyebrow and asked, "Dare I ask what tales of former glory Sirius has managed to write you about over the summer so far?"

Harry laughed. "Not many, but enough to know who the group's Hermione was!"

"Seeing as she's the brightest witch of her year, I'll take that as a compliment, Mr. Potter!"

After talking for a few more minutes, Remus told Harry to stay out of trouble and enjoy himself. As Harry watched him disillusion himself and creep back to his post, he decided to head upstairs and start on his summer homework. After all, if he wanted to start studying up on more powerful magic, he would need to get the busy work out of the way first.

_Oh, you've got to be kidding me!_

Harry balled up his fists and resisted the urge to smash them through the nearest wall. Three days after he had spoken to Remus about learning more useful magic for the coming war, Remus had appeared on his doorstep and handed him two thin books, wrapped in paper so as to not bring the wrath of Walrus Sr. upon him. Harry had thanked Remus profusely and after fixing the Dursley's their breakfast, he bounded up the stairs, closed his door, and unwrapped the books. The first book, _Dueling for Beginners_, had appeared interesting at first. After he had leafed through it, however, he was disappointed to find that he already knew almost all of the spells and pointers on dueling that it contained. Picking up the second book, Harry hoped that it wouldn't be a complete bust. _Advanced Defensive Magics_ had not been any better. Half of it he had learned in preparation for the Triwizard Tournament, and the rest simply seemed useless in a real fight.

_Maybe if a Death Eater is too stupid to know the counter curse to a tickling charm, I might hold my own!_ Harry suddenly knew that he would have to take matters into his own hands. The adults in his life would never willingly let him learn what he felt he needed to. _Well, Sirius would probably teach me every dirty trick he knows, _Harry thought, _but it's not like a wanted fugitive can just pop in for a visit, can he?_

Harry gingerly picked u[ the books and handled them as if they were some slimy, disgusting potions ingredient. He dumped them in his trunk, slammed the lid, and collapsed on his bed with his hands over his eyes.

_I won't last a minute against the weakest Death Eater if I can't learn anything good. I made it out of the graveyard alive, but it's never a win if you're crucioed during the course of a duel, is it?_

Harry lay on his bed for quite some time, and racked his brains for a way to get better spellbooks. He laughed a little, and wondered what Hermione would think if she knew he was obsessing about books. _Probably have a coronary. Then, she'd immediately draw up a reading schedule and assign me book reports on what I learned!_ After almost half an hour, he came to a realization.

_I may not be able to get anyone to bring me some good spellbooks, but who says I can't go get them myself? _A lot of people did, actually, but Harry knew the Sorting Hat put him into Gryffindor for a reason. It also wanted to put him into Slytherin, and Harry decided to use all of his cunning into plotting a day of freedom from the suburban confines of Little Whinging. Over the next few days, Harry times the cracks of apparition and managed to work out a rough schedule of his guards shifts. The largest gap between a person leaving and a person coming was around 11 p.m. The guard on duty before 11 would leave right on the dot with a quiet pop, and several minutes would pass before a very much louder crack signaled the arrival of the next. Harry decided that he would wait until the guard left at 11, and then high tail it down the street and around the corner onto Magnolia Crescent before the late lookout could catch sight of Harry leaving. He would then take the train into London and gain access to Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron. He had decided on wearing a school robe of Ron's that had mistakenly been tossed into his trunk at the end of the school year with the hood up to conceal his identity. The robe was entirely too large for him, but hooded figures in long dark robes would hardly be out of place in the Alley at night.

At 10:55, Harry began getting ready for his flight from the dreaded Dursley's home. Grabbing his wand and his money, he threw his invisibility cloak over himself and silently tip-toed down the stairs, making sure to skip the third step that always creaked. Ducking into the living room, he saw that Dudley was laughing madly at some movie on the television. Harry crept past quietly, even though he doubted the pig could hear him over the racket that he was making. Harry pressed his ear against the front door, and waited for the crack that would signal it was time to move.

After several agonizing minutes where he thought he would have to scrap the whole plan, he heard the guard disappartate. _Time to move!_ Harry thought happily. He opened the front door, and moved as fast as he could under the cloak down the darkened street. After rounding the corner, he slowed down and stashed his cloak in his bag along with Ron's. Stopping to listen for the next pop, he hid behind a convenient bush and waited. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard the next guard pop in. Convinced that no alarm was raised, Harry continued on his way down the street and thanked whatever gods were listening that he had gotten away with his little scheme.

_Diagon Alley, here I come!_ Harry tried hard to wipe the triumphant grin off his face, and after a few seconds, he decided that it was useless. It felt amazing to be out from under Dumbledore's thumb for once! Harry quickened his pace and jogged down the shadowy street towards the train station.

A/N: What do you think? I know I'm rusty, but if you like it, leave me a review!


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